


Toe the Line

by rednihilist



Series: Colin Luthor 'Verse [6]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, M/M, Non Consensual, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-29
Updated: 2010-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rednihilist/pseuds/rednihilist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eyes on the red stone, Lin answered, "Today's the day I wake up."</p><p>A Prequel of sorts to CFMWH.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toe the Line

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: 'Smallville' and certain characters belong to DC Comics, and Miller-Gough et al., respectively. No profit is gained from this writing, only, hopefully, enjoyment.

The floor pounded, and the walls. Air was heavy and solid, taking up space in his lungs and freezing his limbs. And sounds. The screaming and beating. He couldn't tell the difference between himself and everything else.

Squeeze on his hand and Lin squeezed back. The screaming kept up, and Lin kept up with it by not looking, not seeing. Eyes closed, he could almost take it. Eyes closed, he could almost forget.

But then it increased. _They _increased it, either the volume or the intensity. Or both. Squeezing his hand so hard it hurt, Lucky kept screaming. And Lin didn't look, but he squeezed back. More sound, pounding into the room and filling it floor to ceiling -- to the ceiling and sealing them inside. It was a tomb, a sinkhole. They would drown here, pulled under and swallowed up by noise and waves of sound.

Lin wished they would. He squeezed Lucky's hand harder, heard and felt small bones crack in return. Hearing, but no sight. If he didn't look. . .

Lucky just screamed. And held onto Lin with his broken and mashed hand.

Must have fallen asleep or slipped unconscious. Lin had dipped under because now he was coming up. He opened his eyes and that was when he realized it was empty. The room had drained. No pulsing, beating sound trying to pull them apart. Instead, it was quiet. Muted.

Everything was still, including Lucky beside him. When Lin looked over, he knew he wasn't dreaming, wasn't asleep. Or maybe he was. Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe every bad thing was a nightmare. Maybe he was sleeping and had been for years. There was a home outside his head and he'd go there. Be wrapped in perfume-scented arms and red hair. Sung to in a bed someone tucked him into and then left. No blood and no screaming. Nothing but bad dreams, all of it.

And Lucky wasn't dead again, with blood sliding out his ears and that look on his face that Lin wanted to feel.

Peace. Peace from death and no more of anything. Lucky, gone and departed. Lin squeezed the hand in his again, and then was pulled away. He kept his eyes open. They let him stay.

_"Never leave you if I can help it," he told him, whispering out through the bars._

_"Promise?" he heard Lucky ask._

_"Promise," Lin said back. "I swear."_

_"Never leave you, either," and Lin closed his eyes at the sound of Lucky crying again._

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe, Lucky.

Lin was selfish, and Lucky came back, gasping. Just like he always did. Lin was there and Lucky was there again, too.

Lin was selfish. He didn't want to be the only one there.

***

"And how are we today, my boy?"

"Fine, sir," Lin answered, standing still. Lionel reached out a hand and touched Lin's cheek, rubbed his thumb over and over and around in circles. Then he pulled back with a last pat to the face. He stepped away, and he was smiling.

"Good," Lionel said quietly. He just looked at Lin, from head to toe and smiling all the while. "Do you know what day it is today?" he asked, that interested look on his face. A test.

"It's December 15th," Lin said, going on to answer the rest of the questions without being asked. "One o'clock in the afternoon, or just a few minutes after, and you're my. . . father. Lionel. And I'm your son." He dropped his eyes down to stare at his bare feet. "Colin," he then said, finishing the test. "My name's Colin."

"Good," was Lionel's response. "And today is a special day. Today, my son, I have a gift for you."

Movement and the rustle of fabric, and Lin tried to forget the way Lionel always said 'my son' like he was savoring it. He could see Lionel's shoes take a step closer, and then his hand was back on Lin's face, his chin. He lifted it up so Lin had to look at him and meet his eyes. Then he let go and briefly messed with something small in his other hand.

"Like your other one," Lionel told him, suddenly lifting up whatever it was he had. He undid a clasp on a necklace and brought the ends apart, only to then re-clasp it behind Lin's neck. There was a stone on the chain, and it was heavy, just like the other one he was told to wear. The pendant touched his skin, his chest.

And that was when Lin could tell the difference, and feel it, too. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Lionel was still close, his hands touching Lin's shoulders.

"And do you know what day it is today?" came Lionel's voice again, low and close. Deep, like it got when he wanted things Lin gave him in bed. And out of it, too.

Lin opened his eyes and looked down at his chest. Different pendant, but the same chain.

The same chain tying him to Lionel.

Eyes on the red stone, Lin answered, "Today's the day I wake up."

 

 


End file.
